


Determination

by Sanderliing



Series: The Hankcon Slowburn Series [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor is pretty pure tbh, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Pacifist Ending, Pre-Relationship, Withdrawal, alcohol addiction tw, but they’re oblivious for now, they’ll get there eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 06:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17997077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanderliing/pseuds/Sanderliing
Summary: Hank knew that facing his demons was never going to be an easy task, it would take all of his grit and willpower, but with someone by his side to help him every step of the way maybe it could be just bearable.





	Determination

**Author's Note:**

> I will hopefully be posting the final chapters of Tactile and replying to comments in the next week, sorry for the huge wait ;-;

**10th December, 2038**

 

The snow showed no signs of stopping as winter’s clutches finally fully encased the city of Detroit. 

 

Hank sighed, watching through the window as the white blanket made the street look almost ethereal, Sumo’s morning walk would have to be postponed until the roads were a little less treacherous. A shame, he was just getting the hang of his new routine, too.

 

The month following the deviants’ victory has seen a lot of change in Hank’s own life, the most obvious one being the new addition to his household. Now he had to not only deal with his lumbering, slobbering beast of a dog, but also a newly deviated android hellbent on figuring out the world. If he was being completely honest with himself, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

It had taken a night of convincing Connor that he would in no way be a burden for him to reluctantly agree to stay at the house, though it was obvious that he had wanted to. Hank knew Connor, knew that he would have been uncomfortable staying at New Jericho, knew that he still had a lot of lingering guilt to work through before he could comfortably reside with the other deviants.

 

And so he had thrown open his doors, barely even thought twice about it really, Connor was his friend. The android had evidently felt the same, after barely a week of living at the house he had devised a plan for helping Hank improve his wellbeing. Starting with throwing most, but not all of the alcohol in the house into the trash, said there was no point trying to make him quit cold turkey, that just wasn’t reasonable.

 

It was hard, slowly lowering his intake, as the tremors that wracked through his hands proved, but he wanted to try. God, did he want to try, the dimming of Connor’s eyes when he reached for a bottle was one thing, but he also wanted to do it for himself. He couldn’t keep going down this road, careening straight into an early grave, no, he had something to live for now. He still didn’t particularly like himself, that would take some time, however, being on the right side of history and helping the androids win their fight had been a bit of a boost.

 

Since the revolution, he had been approached by Markus and his inner circle, evidently they knew of him through Connor. Before too long, he had other deviants stopping him in the streets, thanking him for his part. It had helped him to see himself in a different light. He could finally stand to see himself in the mirror, even if the image mirrored back at him was not the best he could be.

 

Especially now, the stress of alcohol withdrawal causing his eyes to take on a certain sunken look, his skin dulled to a sickly pale tone. Still, it was progress, and he’d somehow managed to only drink two bottles today. The look in his housemate’s face when he had put the second bottle down and not reached for a third had made a certain swell of pride rise in his chest. His inner voice tried to tell him that drinking two bottles of beer in a day was not an accomplishment, but the way those brown eyes had crinkled happily at the corners told him otherwise.

 

So here he stood, hands clenched on the bathroom sink he was hunched over, breathing deeply through his nose and exhaling through the mouth, trying to clear his mind and just go to sleep without drinking another beer.

 

Just two beers today, a final one tomorrow, and then none, ever. He wasn’t naive, this wouldn’t be easy, hell, the chance of him slipping up sometime down the road was pretty fucking high.

 

He was going to try anyway.

 

If the last few months had taught him anything, it was that you had to be willing to struggle to get what you want.

 

Like Connor. God knows he was struggling with deviancy, suddenly able to understand how he had previously only been a tool, a puppet. With his strings now cut, he seemed to flounder. He often asked for some sort of instruction, and Hank was working hard to instil the fact that he didn’t have to take orders from anyone anymore.

 

The android was improving at least. He was getting better at telling Reed where to shove it and he was slowly beginning to say what he wanted. Actually, he was now almost too good at getting what he wanted, if Hank’s steadily improving diet was anything to go by.

 

If Connor could work hard to better himself, so could he. He gave himself one final glance over in the bathroom mirror, grey pajama shorts and t-shirt hanging off him ever so slightly, he’d have to improve that, maybe do some strength training, after all, he didn’t want to loose all of his bulk, before pushing away.

 

When he stepped into the living room, Connor was already settling down for the night, lounging comfortably on the couch, dressed in a loose top and the dog-printed pants Hank had bought for him after watching his eyes wander to their rack one too many times.

 

”Everything alright, Lieutenant?” Brown eyes peered over the back of the sofa, eyebrows raised in question.

 

”You’ve been living here for a month, Connor.” He said as he retrieved a glass from the cabinet, holding it underneath the tap. “It’s Hank.” 

 

Analityical eyes watched as the clear liquid filled the glass, one corner of his lips pulling up ever so slightly. “Of course, Hank.”

 

Then he was settling back down onto his side, preparing to go into the sleep mode he had recently installed as one of Cyberlife’s new quality of life updates. The experience had been jarring for him at first, unaccustomed to blanking out for hours at a time, but he seemed to enjoy it. At the very least he was eager to keep a routine time set for sleeping, or as much of a routine as their jobs would allow.

 

”Just getting ready for bed, you good?” He received a nod in response, Connor gesturing to the small mat underneath him that acted as a charging station. 

 

“Yes Hank.” Hank nodded, more to himself, and Connor seemed to expect him to leave. He definitely didn’t expect to have a heavy blanket thrown over him, effectively drowning him as it swallowed his slight frame.

 

”Use this, looks fucking weird for you to be lying there with nothing on you in the middle of December.”

 

Connor’s expression had softened, hands bunched in the blanket’s material, fingers running across its threads, probably cataloguing a new texture with his delicate sensors.

 

”Thank you,” He shuffled until he was snug under the blanket. “Goodnight, Hank.”

 

”Night, Connor.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Hank startled awake, it was to the unpleasant feeling of a cold sweat. Trying to roll over and continue sleeping proved fruitless, he’d never felt so horrifically wide awake in his life. He didn’t even have to look at his hands to know they were trembling, violent tremors pulsing through him. Everything in his body seemed to scream at him to have another drink, his own treacherous mind supplying that he could just have “a little bit”.

 

 _Yeah right, when is it ever just ‘a little bit’._ Letting out a rugged breath through his mouth, he staggered towards the living room, determined to get some fresh air and clear his mind.

 

He stopped as he walked past the couch, taking notice of the form so relaxed he had practically become one with the cushions. Despite Connor having the update for around two weeks now, Hank had never actually seen him in the midst of sleep, always waking up ready and prepared hours before the lieutenant was even debating getting out of bed. It was a good look for him, Hank decided pretty quickly as he peered down at the still form.

 

The blanket moved minutely with the android’s - Hank had to remind himself that that’s what Connor is - simulated breathing, face relaxed into one of the most innocent expressions Hank had ever seen, eyebrows upturned ever so slightly. Sumo was snoozing quietly at the foot of the couch, the traitor, and Hank huffed out a breath of air when he noticed one of Connor’s hands resting in the dog’s fur, evidently he’d passed out mid-stroke.

 

Hank tried his hardest to tiptoe quietly to the front door, but as soon as he tried to turn the key in the lock Sumo let out a muffled boof. Then another sound, a sort of soft hum, upturned at the end almost like a question, a sound that could only have come from the deviant currently snug on his couch. He watched as a mop of bed-head appeared over the arm of the seat, eyes blinking blearily at him before they were rather startlingly completely clear, Connor now fully awake.

 

”Hank?” The voice was tinged with static, the man it belonged to still booting up, LED doing a few spins of yellow before settling back to blue.

 

”Didn’t mean to wake you.” He said lamely from where he was stood. “I couldn’t sleep.”

 

The door was half open now, winter air seeping into the house and he almost thought he imagined seeing the way Connor pulled the blanket higher up his arms, sitting up and scooting so there was enough room for both of them on the seat, eyes expectant.

 

Vaguely he registered himself shutting the door, turning the key until he heard a click. Settling down onto the cushions, it was hard not to notice the way Connor was analysing him, LED whirling.

 

”You’re perspiring at a higher rate than normal, your hands are shaking and you’re having trouble sleeping, it seems you’re-“

 

”I know what withdrawal is, Connor.” His voice came out sharper than intended, and he winced at the way the android hesitated next to him. “Sorry.”

 

Those soft lips curled upwards, no offence had been taken then.

 

”Is there anything I can do to help?”

 

”I guess just keep talking to me like this.”

 

”That I can do.” Eyes were squinting mischievously at him, obviously referring to the many times he’d annoying Hank with his constant questions.

 

The other paused for a few seconds, before wordlessly walking over to Hank’s record player, slim fingers perusing his record collection for a few brief moments before a vinyl was being pulled out.

 

Hank busied himself with scratching behind Sumo’s ears, the dog’s giant head leaning into his knee, eyes closed in contentment. Before too long, the sound of some quiet jazz was filling the room, Connor padding back over to him.

 

”No heavy metal?”

 

”I didn’t think now was quite the time for it.”

 

There was humour in his lilting voice as he settled back down heavily, pulling his blanket back over his crossed legs. It was easy for the two to fall into easy conversation, Hank asking how Connor was faring in his self-discovery, receiving very Connor-typical answers in reply.

 

”I met a pug on the way to the grocery store.” His elbow was up against the chair arm, resting into it easily. “I like all dogs, but I think I’ve found that I prefer larger breeds.”

 

”Nice to have something to grab onto, huh.”

 

The smaller man’s expression lightened, and Hank figured now was as good a time as any to breach a sore subject.

 

”You spoken to Jericho recently?”

 

The way his partner stiffened beside him was answer enough.

 

”No, I wasn’t sure if I should try to speak to any of them or not.” Was his reply.

 

”Well,” Hank shrugged. “Markus pretty much gave you an open invitation to go see them, but it’s up to you to talk to them whenever you’re ready.”

 

Connor’s shoulders perked up as if a weight had been lifted from them, hands unclenching from their position on the blanket as he nodded, whether to himself or to Hank he wasn’t sure.

 

No point continuing that conversation. Hank steered it back to their previous topic, asking Connor about specific breeds. Of course, Connor confessed his love for Saint Bernards, reaching down to scritch at Sumo’s head, but he also had a particular soft spot for German Shepherds and Samoyeds.

 

”Why Samoyeds?” 

 

“They look friendly.” Well, no arguments there, so Hank let him continue rambling off different breed characteristics, focusing on the sound of Connor’s enthusiastic voice instead of the discomfort in his body. He barely even noticed that the other had trailed off topic until a remark about the Pacific Ocean caught him as being distinctly not about dogs. 

 

“-there’s so much of the ocean that still hasn’t been explored. Humanity created androids but they still don’t know everything about the oceans, there could be so many species down there that we don’t even know about yet.”

 

Hank felt a smile tugging at his lips, making a mental note to take Connor to an aquarium one day. Eventually he noticed that the android’s voice was slowing down, slumping further back into the couch. Come to think of it, they’d been sat here for a while now and Hank was also beginning to get tired again. He felt a little bad for keeping Connor up. He’d told him that his new update meant that his body preferred to sleep for a similar amount of time as a human. Although he could function on a lot less than Hank, he described it as an unpleasant feeling to be “sleep deprived”.

 

Hank let himself ease down onto the chair arm, eyes heavy, and let the soft sound of jazz send him off.

 

* * *

 

 

He woke back up with a slight ache in his neck at around 7am, and it took him a few moments to get his bearings. The record was no longer playing, Connor must have taken it off when Hank fell asleep. Speaking of, the deviant was curled back up on his end of the couch, eyes shut, shoulders rising and falling evenly.

 

His mind’s first instinct was to find a beer to drink, but he pushed past that, some water would have to do instead. The shift of the couch when his weight left it caused Connor to shift a little, mouth parting as he mumbled something completely unintelligible that made Hank have to stifle a snort.

 

There was one more beer in the fridge, Hank pausing as he stalked past it. He opened the fridge and, after a lengthy pause, decided what he had to do, taking a minute to steel himself. He had to do it quickly, give himself no room to doubt. With a strength he didn’t know he had he was grabbing and uncapping the bottle before holding the amber liquid over the sink, blue eyes hard as he watched it finally tip into the waiting plug, until there was none left.

 

He sighed when it was over, turning back towards the living room with the intention of watching the news to take his mind off things. When he turned he startled, finding the android to be watching him, a small smile gracing his lips. He didn’t say anything as the lieutenant turned on the tv and sat back down, but the two fell into a comfortable silence.

 

Yes, if Connor was going to work hard on discovering himself, then so would Hank. He could never be the man he used to be, the loving father to a son named Cole, nor the grief-stricken alcoholic he was mere months ago, he could be something different, he just had to fight for it.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me in screaming on Twitter at @smolsanderling I’m kind of new so I’m not too good at using it just yet but I’m getting there!


End file.
